


Not Alone

by I_Write_Smut_Not_Tragedies



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 12:02:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16953642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Write_Smut_Not_Tragedies/pseuds/I_Write_Smut_Not_Tragedies
Summary: Victorian AUProfessor James Moriarty just won't stay dead, what if a certain necromancer was under his employ?Pre and post TAB events.





	1. Dressed to Kill

**Author's Note:**

> I have had this in my head for a long time, finally giving in and putting it down on paper.  
> Will contain smut in later chapters because you know me by now!  
> Please Read and Review!

She was dressed for a dalliance, she made no mistake about it as she climbed into the dark carriage the older professor had sent for her, along with a list of instructions to be followed to the letter. None of which she chose to oblige. “Wear white; simple gown, no frills.” She wore her darkest ball gown, the highest of fashions, the red so dark it was nearly black in the night, the bustle and train lace with satin black roses tucked into it, the neckline was nearly scandalous with her curves; her blood red cloak hid it well, the hood covering her light brown hair with natural red highlights that glowed softly in the light of the small torch inside the carriage. “Wear hair down or in single unadorned braid.” She had it styled in a fancy chignon, a few curls tumbling artfully to frame her face at the back of her neck. “No painted faces.” Her lips matched the color of her dress and her eyes were painted dark to offset her unusual Amber star burst eyes. “Bare feet or kid slippers, no corsets and stockings.” She wore her favorite knee high boots with the square heels and pointed toes that were all the rage these days, her stockings matching her dress and corset perfectly. “No gloves or jewels.” She wore black satin opera gloves, the gloves she used for surgery tucked in the small valise she carried, along with a bottle that would fix the amorous professor for good. Around her neck hung a beautiful black diamond necklace, her pierced ears holding droplets of the same. She had defied all his wishes, especially the one where he thought he would be defiling a virgin in exchange for sponsoring her schooling this whole time. Yes, he had sponsored her and she had graduated tonight, time to pay the piper, but she had never mentioned the state of her virtue to the lech, what backwards thinking that a woman two and twenty and an American heiress would still be in intact! Morgana Isobel Masters had decided that she would be the last poor woman preyed upon by this professor. The world would suffer no great loss with his passing. He had no wife, no heirs, no legitimate ones that he claimed anyway. She was no blushing virgin student and she refused to play the part, even for a minute. Her appearance was her defiance.  
“Ach, lass, I really wish ye would have complied with the wishes Himself sent ye. The last one who dared wear even a flower in her hair, he made her scream for hours before he let her go. The defiant ones always are broken in horrible ways.” The soft Irish lilt of the professor's man servant had her head snap up at him, unusually beautiful eyes regarding him slowly, taking in every detail. He was handsome, black hair slicked back, the clothes of a nobleman, darkest eyes she had ever seen; shame he was the master's pet.   
“The ones who defied him before were not me. I do believe I can handle myself, thank you so kindly for the warning though.” She replied, treating him as an equal and not a servant. A habit her father hated so she did her best to cultivate it.  
The man servant grinned a predatory smile and she shivered despite her bravado. “And the bottle?” He asked her softly.  
“My family has a winery, this is our best Blackberry wine.” She smiled at him, all innocence.   
“Open it.” He ordered and she widened her eyes in alarm under the hood, playing the part of the scared maiden well.  
“But Sir, I cannot present him with a bottle of previously tasted wine! I fear I have already defied him enough.” She protested as he shook his head.  
“I am afraid I must insist, death threats and all that. Open it, I will have you taste it first.”  
This was not planned. Her taste it?   
“Me-me?” She stuttered.  
“Yes, you. If its poison, you've made your own bed; I will not drink from an unknown bottle. Go on.” She nodded as she took a breath, said a quick prayer, opened the bottle and took a sip, making sure her lip rouge stained the bottle and a little inside. Nothing happened, thank goodness.  
“See? Completely harmless, care for a taste?”  
He rolled his dark eyes as he took the bottle, taking a hearty sip, smacking his lips as he tasted where her lips had been. “Your lip rouge is flavored same as the wine, fascinating. Something tells me you know what you're doing.” He grinned as she took the bottle back. One more ingredient and it would become toxic.  
She leaned forward, as if finding a confidant with him.  
“Tell me, do you get to join in on his little games?” She licked her lips, looking him up and down, blushing lightly; that one was not faked, he really was handsome, too bad he was the devil's right hand man.  
He sighed, his fingers playing with a curl that escaped her hood, taking liberties by touching her hair as she shivered once.  
“Sadly, no, though for once I wish I was. You would be a delight.” He released the curl as the carriage slowed then stopped.  
Oh no.  
“Regretfully, I must inform you that we are here.” His eyes looked on her with pity and she shivered at what was to come, how close she would have to let the professor get to do this properly.  
He hopped down from the carriage first, squeezing her hand in a comforting gesture as he helped her down. She played the part of shrinking violet well as she fell half into his arms.  
“Oh, I feel I may faint.” She whispered weakly as he looked on her with concern.  
“Try not to; he brands the ones who faint.” He whispered urgently as he helped her inside the manor. He had her wait in the drawing room, bringing her two glasses for her wine and then left her unaccompanied by any other servants to fetch the master. She acted quickly, sliding her gloves off and opening the poison ring containing the white powder, pouring it into his glass before sliding the ring off as well and hiding it inside her dress in a hidden pocket. She poured the wine, the three ingredients mixing and making his glass only the poisoned one.  
The professor, Rolf Crawley came storming out of his chambers with the man servant now cowering and she felt horrible for having dragged the man into this ruse.  
“How dare you deliberately disobey me!” He thundered at her and she had to fight her eyes from rolling. What was it with men using their voices to motivate women with fear? Brutes, the lot of them. Looking properly cowed, her hood still up, she put the proper amount of fear in her voice.  
“Forgive me, Sir. I just thought that you do the seducing all the time and well...” She looked up, her hood falling back as she looked him boldly in the eyes for the first time, biting her bottom lip coquettishly in a move that was designed to draw his eyes to her mouth, then the rest of her body as she let her cloak fall to the floor revealing the gown.  
“I just thought someone should seduce you for once.” She thickened her southern accent, as he licked his lips as she walked to him, his glass in her hands. Grinning, she kissed him passionately, reciting at least a stanza or two of one of her favorite plays mentally, Macbeth; how fitting.   
Something wicked this way comes, indeed. She pulled back, blushing.  
“I've been waiting to do that all year, Professor. Shall we enjoy this wine, my family's best and then see where the evening takes us?” She asked him as he drank his glass eagerly, draining it in one gulp, clearly in hurry to move things along. So was she.  
Glutton.   
He grinned as she sipped her glass delicately, watching him.  
“So tell me, lovely have you ever h-.” He didn't finish his sentence, suddenly doubling over as his tongue thickened in his mouth and his throat closed up. Morgana sighed as she walked over to him, her skirts brushing against the man.  
“Have I ever had a man before? Several; carnality is power, I refuse to be sold like some horse to the highest bidder for my virtue. Have I ever killed a man before? Well, you get to take that innocence at least. Isn't it funny, how so many natural ingredients are completely harmless until combined whereupon they become toxic? You taught me that, though you were too busy with your hand on my arse to see that I learned well. Give it a few moments, your brain will shut down completely. I tested it on mice.” She returned to her chair and sipped her wine, watching him die. She noticed the man servant staring at her with hooded eyes.   
“I am sorry, but it looks like you might have to look for other means of employment in say, five minutes.”  
“Why wait?” His accent was thicker now, more posh and she never expected the neat gunshot between the dying man's eyes or her scream as she dropped her glass in shock.


	2. Alternate Employment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath and a job offer

She recovered her composure quickly and the scream ended quite abruptly while the Irishman grinned in appreciation. “Thank you! That was getting quite irritating. Now, take those tools and bring me his heart, dear; stitch him up, show me that education that I paid for.” He ordered her as she stood up and walked over to the tray of surgical tools.  
“You paid for? Of course, the man behind the glass that time. Then you'll remember I need my gloves.” She opened her valise, gasping in shock when he grabbed it out of her hands abruptly.   
“Mm, I think just this once I want to see the lovely woman get her hands dirty. Go on.”  
She sighed as she sat down next to the corpse, gathering her skirts around her as she sighed once more while picking up the scalpel.  
“So hesitant to touch him, is it because he is dead or rather a deeper reason?” He purred, behind her now, leaning down to look into her eyes. She sighed.  
“I think we both know what happens if my bare hand brushes him... Now, my gloves please, M?” She called him by the letter she was given that day when he watched the students behind the tinted glass. She had been the star pupil that day and had shone the brightest; he had been drawn to her ever since. To find her in the carriage of the man he had been planning to kill and dressed like that had been a real treat. He handed her the gloves, grinning, and she took them happily and in less than five minutes, he had the man's heart in his hands, relishing the warm drip of blood through his fingers.  
“Impressive. You're hired.”  
“For?”  
“Services that will be needed.”  
“Have a mortuary, do you?”  
“Other services, dear.”  
“Needing a necromancer regularly then?” She asked him, biting her lip at the dark look he gave her as the heart squelched to the floor, lying forgotten as he pulled her up, smearing blood on her arms and as he cupped her face.  
“You have no idea; Professor James Moriarty, a pleasure to meet you.”  
“Lady Morgana Masters. The pleasure is all mine.” She returned, completely enthralled with him.  
He grinned, his smile all sharp teeth and dark eyes.  
“Oh, it will be both of ours.”  
He pulled her bloody gloves off, tossing them on the floor as he crushed his lips to hers, pulling her close before pushing her back towards the bedroom the two men had emerged from earlier. She allowed her heels to get tangled in her skirts and fell back onto the bed, deeply satisfied when he followed her down. She pulled him down to kiss her and he put a bloody finger to her lips stopping her.  
“The wine, and the lip rouge was poison, what else? I've had two of the three ingredients. What was the third?” He growled in warning as she nipped his finger hard.  
“Cocaine. It will look like over indulgence, nothing more.” She reported, her voice turning into a moan as he kissed her neck, nipping it before sinking his teeth into it and sucking a mark into her skin, at the same time pulling her skirts up around her waist as his fingers delved between her legs. Her undergarments were high fashion, not the ones that had no style and came down to the knees and slipping the fabric aside was much easier. She whimpered when he slid a finger inside her, purring in her ear praising how wet she was for him. Her hands went down to his trousers, undoing the clasps and he chuckled softly at her eagerness.  
“Easy, Precious, you'll have me soon enough.” He soothed her as she slid her hand inside and cupped him through his underwear. What little control he had barely been maintaining snapped with a drag of her fingernail down his shaft as he pinned her hands roughly above her head with one hand as he took himself out of his underwear and in hand, pumping himself once before thrusting harshly inside her.  
She screamed as he entered her and he groaned at how tight and hot she was, the pleasured scream making him shiver. She wrapped her legs around his hips, opening herself up to him more and he growled in approval as he kissed her neck once more, finally beginning to move inside her roughly, relishing her sounds of enjoyment.  
“As much as I want to drag this out, we really should hurry before his real servants come to check on him for the night.” James groaned out as he quickened his pace, her hips meeting his perfectly. “That is perfectly fine with me.” She moaned as he hit deeper inside her than before and her eyes fluttered closed, mewling low in her throat as she felt herself getting closer to release.  
“No, Kitten, look at me; I want to see your eyes when you cum, want you to know who's the only one who can do this to you.” He ordered as her eyes snapped to his, getting trapped in his dark gaze. She was so close... almost.  
“I need...” He kissed her hungrily his hand slipping between their bodies as he rubbed her clit, groaning as she started to spasm around him. She came violently, his release triggered by her own and he growled when he realized she had bitten his tongue hard enough to make it bleed, his cock hardening all over again inside her when she sucked the crimson drops away. Reluctantly, he freed himself from her body, letting her up at last as he fixed their clothing. He had bitten her lip and a tiny drop gathered at the bite. He licked it gently as he kissed her one last time, tasting blackberry lip rouge and copper; a heady combination. Neither one of them had any idea what they had just set into motion.  
“Come, let's gather anything that would point to us and be off, shall we? We have work to do.” He had already left the room and sighing, she got up, her breathing still slightly uneven. “Not much of an 'enjoy the afterglow' kind of man are you?” She quipped as she followed after him, taking her bottle of wine, her glass, and her gloves, both sets, as she wrapped her cloak back around her shoulders, redoing the clasp, but leaving the hood down. He took the surgical implements and the heart, the latter of which he put in an ornate box that had been on the mantle piece. He was ever the gentleman as he helped her wash the now dried blood off her face and arms where he had touched her, helping her into their carriage as the huge ginger haired Irishman with the startling blue eyes who had driven the carriage before grinned at them.  
“Well, this is an unexpected turn of events.” He drawled lazily, watching them, chewing on a large cigar that was not yet lit.  
“Yes, well, employment negotiations got heated. Sebastian Moran, my right hand man, meet Lady, oh sorry Doctor   
Morgana Masters, my Necromancer.” Morgana blushed lightly, shivering at his words, not knowing if she was more excited by the Doctor in front of her name or the way he had said she was his. Moran bowed deeply at the waist, grinning at her as she curtsied politely. James clapped his hands grinning.  
“Well, now that the family's all been introduced, shall we go now?” And with that, they set off into the night.


End file.
